


Rush Hour Crush

by Coraleeveritas



Series: From Winter To Spring [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ficlet, First Meetings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to work after Christmas may bring the same rush hour problems for Dacey but it also proves to be a little more interesting than normal due to the red headed man she quite literally runs into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rush Hour Crush

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second of a rather ambitious ficlet series and my first time writing this pairing, which makes me a little more nervous than usual about posting.
> 
> A huge THANK YOU to RoseHeart and Sandwichesyumyum, as usual, for their never ending friendship and support. 
> 
> None of these characters belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for fluffy times.

She was half way down the second escalator when the muffled announcement blared, cutting through the sound of Debbie Harry in her ears, asking someone to 'call me', and interrupting her normal morning routine. Reluctantly removing a bud, Dacey huffed out a sigh, along with the rest of the rush hour crowd, as the northern accented announcer informed them that all trains were now suspended due to an incident further up the line. A wave of grumbling rose up amongst the captive commuters, now descending down into the depths of the station without a recognised reward waiting at the bottom. Feeling irritated by the unexpected turn of events, especially when she was running a little later than usual anyway, Dacey cursed colourfully and began to push her way through the throng of passengers, stomping down the moving staircase.

In the back of her mind she had always known that retracing her steps after the extended Christmas vacation was always going to be difficult, but, with her mother and sisters' voices still echoing in her head, she was finding it tougher than ever to be thrown back into the frenetic fray. Jumping from the last stair, her thoughts a jumble of homes both past and present, Dacey turned to head back towards the surface in the hopes of finding any form of public transport travelling in the right direction. Taking a rare moment to pay attention to the flickering adverts for the city’s New Year’s Eve celebrations lining the walls of the station, rather than the direction she was heading, her foolhardy feet took her straight into the path of an equally distracted auburn haired man.

"Gods, I'm sorry," she spluttered, remembering her manners just in time before she swore again, her rapidly deteriorating language skills another consequence of spending more time than usual with her sisters. Five girls growing up under the same roof had been, at times, like living in a war zone and Christmas only seemed to bring out the worst in them all. Though Lyra was still hoping to leave the familiar frozen tundra behind when the time for college came calling, Alysanne was happily settled on Bear Island and the youngest two weren't yet old enough to work out what they really wanted. Added together, it sometimes meant that Dacey felt like she'd become stuck between two worlds, neither of which she truly belonged to.

"No, it’s ok," he replied pleasantly, the note of familiarity in his voice causing her head to snap up and meet his starkly blue gaze. "I think I walked into you as much as you walked into me." 

"That's probably not a habit either of us should get into," Dacey joked half-heartedly, making unneeded small talk while she tried to remember exactly where and when she had noticed him before. Feeling more and more tempted to throw an elbow into the ribs of the next city banker who couldn't spare a minute to properly steer around them without bumping or bruising one or the other, she stepped towards the safety of the abandoned platform, gesturing at the swarm of people passing them by. "You never know who you're going to run into."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," he smiled and she found herself unwittingly responding. Despite the lack of levity lacing her words, his stubborn optimism held an infectious note she couldn’t quite ignore. “In fact, the last time I was in this station, I accidentally found my brother wandering around upstairs. He’s stationed at The Wall so, we don’t get to see him that much, but I got off the train that day and there he was, looking as downbeat as ever.” 

"Not everyone is so accommodating towards Karstark, Reed, and Glover junior associates as they are servicemen,” she muttered, watching how carefully he mulled over the new information as the titbits he’d shared started to paint a clearer picture in her mind, trusting her initial instincts about him weren’t wrong. Although she would be the first to admit that appearances could be deceptive.

“I take it you were involved in either the Bolton case or the Riverlands dispute, then,” he assumed, picking up a softer tone as he dropped his voice to match hers while a myriad of other voices flew over their heads, his accent becoming more noticeable with every word. “They’ve been front page news every day for months back home.”

Dacey nodded, knowing how her day to day workload was being played out in the media, the north and south finding different reasons to play up for both the tragedy and the feuding families. Her mother had started keeping cuttings whenever the firm was mentioned in the newspaper, an ex-boyfriend occasionally providing a southern counterpart from inside the capital’s police force. “They’ll be sentencing next week, so that should put an end to the speculation. Mr Greyjoy shouldn’t…” she trailed off as the name slipped past her lips, a violent twitch travelling the length of his russet bearded jaw providing her with the recognition she’d been searching for. _Shit._ “Mr Stark,” she snapped professionally. “I apologise, I know he was a friend.”

“A long time ago,” he mumbled, barely audible even in the quietening space, the earlier commuters having now cleared to allow the last quavers of Christmas carols to creep down the stairs, the spirit of the season even stretching out to brighten the darkest of hidden corners. And as the red and blue and green lights danced just out of sight, she felt his fingers brush over the snowy fur almost childishly trimming the cuffs of her winter coat. “It’s Dacey, isn’t it?”

“Mormont,” she confirmed with only the slightest hint of surprise, her memory having finally caught up as she held out her hand to shake his. Before the seasons had changed and the winter had hit, colder and bleaker than anyone was expecting, he’d been a welcome passenger on her morning train every second or third Tuesday, pouring over piles of unbound manuscripts. Dacey didn’t think she had stared at any point, but she’d certainly looked up from her own work more than once. He was, after all, what her sisters would have described as ‘exactly her type’. “And you’re Robb Stark, head of Grey Wind Publishing.”

“Nice to finally meet you.”

Another announcement cut through her reply, informing those still left milling around the station that the tracks would take longer to clear than originally thought, making her wonder about cutting her losses and heading home. “Since it looks like we’re not going anywhere for at least another half hour, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Robb smiled again. “Is there anywhere you can recommend, Counsellor Mormont?”

“I know just the place.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
